A Hunger Games Tribute from a Die-Hard Fan
by bmsbobcat24
Summary: We all know what Katniss was thinking and doing in the books. But what was everyone else thinking? What were the lives of Katniss's friends, family, and enemies like? My take on what other characters were thinking and doing from a their point of view. Currently taking requests. WARNING: SPOILER ALERTS!
1. Introduction and Explanation

**AN: So, as many of you know, the Hunger Games: Catching Fire just came out. After watching it I realized how different the story would have been if the story was told from a third person point of view, which is basically what the film is doing. Unlike _The Diary of Anne Frank_, the Hunger Games was written with dialogue infused into the story, but I think even with that it is difficult to write a script where all the characters' thoughts have to be included and expressed. I don't know about all of you, but as I was reading the books, I was wondering what was going on in the other characters' heads. Like what was Gale thinking when he was planning a rebellion (spoiler alert)? What was going through Prim's mind when she was called at the reaping? (If that was a spoiler for you, then you better get the books or watch the movie. Preferably read the book.) This "story" will sort of illustrate what I thought the other characters were thinking, and Katniss's effect (affect?) on them, hopefully in chronological order. Yes, be prepared for major spoilers! Each chapter will be labeled with the scene or event that I'm using.**** (So if you haven't read it you aren't surprised.)**** If you disagree or if you have a request, feel free to PM me about or review with your opinion. No flames, please. **

**Disclaimer: Suzanne Collins owns EVERYTHING I base my "scenes" off of. I own nothing. Absolutely nothing... *sobs in a corner***


	2. Chapter 1: Reaping Day

**AN: Most of the chapter is Prim's inner thoughts; hopefully not to much boring description. If you like a lot of action, hang in there, because the other chapters will have some. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the plot, just what they're thinking. Bold stars (*) means a direct quote from the Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins. Please don't sue. That would be awkward. **

* * *

**Prim's POV**

I was standing on the podium, looking out at all my friends from the Seam and school. I see Katniss standing in the sixteen-year-old section, frozen in shock. My mother grouped with the grown-ups, eyes staring blankly ahead. I was pushed into an arena, attacked by Careers and mutts. Running blindly through the forest, the screams of dying tributes all around me. Suddenly, Katniss's piercing cry cuts through the others, filled with pain and terror.

I bolt upright in bed, covered in a cold sweat and gasping for air. I glanced around, calming down as my surroundings became clear. Mother was next to me, still sleeping. She would need a lot of rest. Today is the reaping day. I glanced over to Katniss's bed. Her boots were gone; she probably went out hunting.

Katniss has been taking care of us since Father died. If it weren't for her, we would have starved to death. In fact, we almost did. Katniss came home all of a sudden with two whole loaves of bread, and I knew who had given it to her. Peeta Mellark. I've seen him around school. The bread boy. So really, Peeta saved us from death. After that day, Katniss began hunting, and our mother finally came back to us from whatever she was in. I've read about something called post traumatic stress disorder in one of her books when I was younger. Before we sold it.

I prepared a bath, then roused my mother from her slumber. We bathed and put on our reaping clothes. I wore Katniss's first reaping outfit: a white blouse and a long blue skirt. It's big on me, so Mother used pins to keep it in place. She said I reminded her of Katniss on her first reaping day: young and innocent. Although I could never be as brave as Katniss.

Katniss came home a few minutes later, game bag full with fish and wild meat and strawberries and vegetables. While she bathed, Mother and I began cooking a stew with the fish and some vegetables. We decided to save the strawberries and the good bread for after the reaping. All the while I kept imagining Katniss's name being called, living alone without her. Or my name being called, walking up to the podium, having to fight other kids to the death just to come home to see Katniss and Mother. It's awful, what tributes have to go through. What we all have to go through.

I watch as Katniss slips into one of Mother's fancy dresses from when she was younger and Mother braids her hair in the intricate way she used to do. I can tell Katniss is reluctant to let Mother do anything for her. When Katniss turns around, I couldn't help but gasp.

"You're beautiful,"***** I gasped. Katniss denies this, but pulls me into a warm hug. I cling back, the weight of the next few hours settling in. My first reaping. Katniss tucks in my blouse, which has somehow managed to come untucked again.

"Tuck your tail in, little duck,"***** she says, her voice laced with unspoken worry.

I giggle and quack, which gets Katniss to laugh too. She has the most wonderful laugh, but you'll scarcely hear it.

After we ate, we started off towards the square. I went over to stand with the other 12-year-old girls, recognizing some from my class and giving a little smile. Once everyone had arrived, and the mayor gave his speech, Effie Trinket took the stage. My heart pounded in my chest, and my hands felt clammy. She walked over to the bowl out a slip of paper. I squeeze my eyes shut. _Not Katniss, not Katniss, not Katniss! _I thought desperately.

"Primrose Everdeen," she calls.

* * *

My heart stops. I feel like I floated away from my body, watching myself walking towards the stage. I struggle to take control of my body, to stop, to turn around, to do something.

"Prim!"***** Katniss's voice cuts through the crowd. I snap back to reality to see her running towards me. _Katniss! Go back! _I think. I open my mouth to tell her, but she pushes me behind her and faces the stage defiantly.

"I volunteer!"***** she yells. "I volunteer as tribute!"*****

"No, Katniss!"***** I scream, wrapping my arms around her, clinging on for dear life. "No, Katniss! No! You can't go!"*****

I'm lifted up by strong arms and yanked away from Katniss. I know it's Gale, but that doesn't stop me from kicking and screaming louder, with more vigor. How could he! He brings me to Mother, where I collapse into quiet sobs as they move on. _  
_

Later, we get to see Katniss, but I refuse to let it be a last good-bye. I make her promise she'll come home, no matter how far-fetched that may sound. Even though the odds are against Katniss, deep down I believe she can come home. And she will. I don't know what I would do if she didn't. As the Peacekeeper took us away, I dug deep inside and pulled up all the bravery and courage I could. I would keep our family alive, keep Mother safe. For Katniss.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: **

* * *

**Gale's POV**

Reaping day. A day the Capitol uses to control its districts with fear. But I won't give in. The turkeys are not less than the hunters just because the hunters have resources and power! One of these days, the districts will become tores of being mistreated and living in fear. A revolt is inevitable. That is what I tell my father as I sit by his grave. He had always encouraged me to understand the true meaning of my situation. He told me once that the government was made to protect its people, not to force their district's children to fight each other to the death for its own entertainment. I've told Katniss this, tried to make her understand. She and I could easily start a revolution amongst the coal miners. But she stopped paying attention to my ramblings a long time ago. It killed me, but I have to accept the fact she is too afraid of the Capitol and going against it. I kept trying to tell her that that is exactly what the Capitol wanted, but it was futile.

My father's grave sits at the edge of the Meadow, near the forest. I first discovered the forest when I started to sit and talk to his grave like a nutcase. His grave is one of many that are cluster together, victims of the mine shaft crash that killed my father and Katniss's father. I noticed Katniss, a young, scared 12-year-old girl at the time, who never visited her father's grave. A younger girl with blonde braids would always bring flowers to his grave everyday after school. Later I learned she was Katniss's sister Prim. Sweet, innocent, not at all ready to handle the life's worst brutality. Damn, I really am dark and depressing.

From my father's grave I slip into the forest and grabbed my bow and quivers. It was a long hike to the meeting place, shortened by brisk, long strides. Keeping an eye out for game. I spot a squirrel, and with a quick pull and release, it's mine. Killing animals has become easier for me. Once you start thinking of them as food, as stew or filleted and served with vegetables, it gets much easier, especially when I think my family's sunken cheeks and visible ribs. I kill. Katniss kills. We have to, or else death awaited us.

I set a few snares, then continue up to the alcove of rocks and climb atop one. I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out the fresh loaf of bread. Grinning, I think of how Prim would make cheese from that goat of hers. And that Katniss would be here any minute. I pull out an arrow and stab it through the bread, wondering if Katniss would laugh. She smiles, but laughing is another story. It's like the mockingjay, rare and beautiful, but when you hear it, you're stopped dead in your tracks. As I think of her relaxed smile, her braided hair that shimmers in the sunlight, a twig cracks and my head snaps around. Katniss is walking up the hill, her famous smile lighting up her face.

*****"Hey, Catnip," I greet her and hold the piece of bread. *****"Look what I shot."

She laughs and we talk, like normal days in the woods. Except today isn't normal. There is a large chance that one of us will be called up to the stage, then sent into the arena to kill or be killed. My name is in there forty-two times, Katniss's twenty. I'm not afraid to go into the arena, because if I ever do, I will kill every last one of those Careers. Make a statement so loud, that the Capitol and the districts will pay attention, that they will listen and do something for a change. I would have volunteered already, if it weren't for my mother, Rory, Vick, and Posey. Not to mention Katniss's mother, and Prim. If I left, Katniss would struggle to keep both families afloat. Not that she can't handle herself, but I would never leave her with a burden like that purposefully. I feel like a big brother to her, but recently, things have changed. She's changed. She's not a kid anymore. And no matter what I do, my boy genes kick in and I can't help but watch her sometimes. The way she hunts, the way she prowls.

We fish, hunt, gather, then head back into town. We make a few stops, one of them being Madge's house. When she opened the door, I couldn't help but make a snide remark at her pretty reaping dress and elaborate hair with a pink ribbon. I can't help but lash out at her after she snaps back. Two can play at that game.

*****"What can you have? Five entries? I had six when I was just twelve years old."

*****"That's not her fault," Katniss says.

*****"No, it's no one's fault. Just the way it is," I say. I couldn't believe Katniss defended her. But she's right. It's not Madge's fault.

We walk on back to the square, then split our loot. We bid our goodbyes and went our separate ways. As I walked into my house, I'm greeted by Vick's squeals of delight and Rory's quiet laugh. I walk into our kitchen where my mother is waiting for me with my reaping clothes. I give her a quick peck on the forehead and hand her the bag of food. She smiles and begins to work on our dinner for tonight. I change into the clothes and sit in the other room, where Rory, Vick and I sleep. Vick is drawing in the layer of dust on our floor, Rory directing his hand, showing him how to draw. They both look up as I walk in. Rory stands and helps Vick to his feet. I smile down at Vick, who is just ten years old, too young to be in the reaping but old enough to understand it. Rory, on the other hand, is twelve years old. This is his first year in the reaping, as is Prim's, if I recall correctly.

My mother walked out of the kitchen, reaping dress ready and hands wringing nervously. She nods towards the door and we shuffle out. Before Rory leaves, I pull him into a very un-Galelike hug. Surprised, he stiffened, then hugged back, holding on for dear life. I squeeze back, then whisper in his ear, "It'll be alright," for encouragement. I could feel him shaking. I let him go, with a pat on the shoulder. He looked up at me, his eyes worried and terrified simultaneously. But there was something else in his eyes, something that frightened me just a little. Cold hard rage.

* * *

We all shuffled to the square, like lambs to slaughter. All I saw were sunken eyes and hunched over shoulders. Thoughts of rebellion run quickly through my head. We have the numbers and tools. We could stop working. But I knew the truth. There was no rebellion, no uprising. Yet.

I zone out during most of the ceremony, until the moment Effie pulled out the first name. A hush fell over the crowd. Tension was thick. Sweat ran down my neck, adrenaline pumped through my system, making me jittery and impatient. Effie walked to the center of the stage, opening the slip of paper.

*****"Primrose Everdeen,"

An icy chill settles over me, followed quickly by denial. _She's too young! _I thought. _Her name among thousands! What is the Capitol playing at?_

*****"I volunteer!" A voice shouts across the square. A voice I know very well. *****"I volunteer as tribute!"

I watched in horror as Katniss ran up and pushed Prim back. I gritted my teeth and pushed through the crowd. Prim had a death hold on Katniss, screaming what I couldn't say. **(****AN: Read the book for further information.) **

*****"Up you go, Catnip," My voice trembled, surprising both me and Katniss. I grunted, pulling Prim off of her. Prim kicked and pounded her fists on my back, screaming in defiance. I set down next to Katniss's mother, who pulled her into a tight embrace. I turned to the platform, where Katniss is joined by her opponent, Peter-something. I recognize him from the school, the baker's son, one of the rich town kids. Oh, the irony.


End file.
